Miracle
by NoodlesandPie
Summary: "Well, I'll tell you one thing, I've never screwed a celestial being before!" A multi-chaptered AU fic, where Ianto is, you guessed it, an angel.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Notes: I got the angelic lore from Wiki, and what I remembered from the Bible (not much), and this story is not meant to represent any religion, really, but since angels appear in Christianity, I got most of it from that. I don't mean to offend anyone, or be disrespectful, so please don't take it that way. I don't know if anyone has done this before, but here is my attempt!**

**A review would seriously help me get motivated to write the next chapter, so please leave one if you like it! (Or if you don't, anything's good)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or any of the characters.**

**Word Count: 4336**

**Warnings: Swearing, and the whole thing is **_**very loosely**_** based on biblical texts. Like, really loosely.**

There was gold rushing past his head. Not a bit of gold, like the humming birds from the Fields of Eden, when they flitted past your ears, but a whole tunnel of it, swirling and glittering in his vision. He had seen a lot, some he wished to forget, but he had never seen _this_ before. This didn't feel right. Not the way his wings felt like they were on fire, the way his vision was blurring and fading, or the way his legs were losing their rigidity and his arms were pin wheeling at his sides. This wasn't flying. This was falling.

Ianto Jones was falling.

In a final spurt of power, he beat his wings, managing to face back the way he had come. He was going to get out of here, he was sure of it. He beat his wings again. They flapped feebly against the force dragging Ianto down, sending a thrill of panic through him. Ianto just had time to cry out, before the darkness rushed up and claimed him.

….

"Jack! There's some weird ass rift activity right outside our door!" Owen Harper yelled, rather gruffly.

Jack bounded over and grinned toothily at him. "Yeah? I guess whatever fell through would be easier to transport, then. Tosh, could you get the CCTV up? I want to look at what we are dealing with before we go up."

Tosh, closing down a program she had been working on, and sighed, almost inaudibly, but Owen heard, and felt a smirk spread across his face. Jack didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he didn't acknowledge it.

The grainy image filled one of Tosh' computer screens. It showed the Plass, and a small section of air swirling with golden light, about five feet off the ground. Other than that, the Plass was empty. Disturbingly empty. Owen was put in mind of some crappy horror film he had watched at 2 am last night. It hadn't scared him at the time, but now he felt shivers run up his spine. The Plass was dark, deserted apart from the eerie yellow light pulsating in the inky blackness. The rift was about to close.

"There's nothing there. C'mon, let's get back to work." muttered Owen. He was slightly irritated. A bit of action wouldn't have gone amiss, with Gwen at Rhys', Tosh buried in her computer, and Jack being an insufferable bastard as usual.

So when Tosh murmured: "Wait, what's that?", you couldn't really blame Owen for getting a tad excited, could you? He pushed his chair over to Tosh' desk again, the wheels scraping on the ground and putting his teeth on edge.

"There's something in the corner of the screen. There, look!" Tosh continued, pointing to the shape in the corner that Owen had overlooked. It looked like … a foot?

"Shit, did a person fall through?" Owen exclaimed, a million different thoughts running through his head at once. The main one being: _I hope it's an alien. Lot easier to deal with. People get so __**emotional.**_

Jacks jaw set, and his whole demeanour was one of steely determination, but his eyes looked like they had been ripped from a broken man's face and plastered over his own.

Jack swept his coat up from a nearby chair, and put his Webley in his holster. He gestured for Owen and Tosh to follow him, and they scrambled after him, Tosh gathering as much tech as she could hold, Owen fixing his earpiece.

Jack strode up to the invisible lift, and Owen tried to melt Jack's face off with his eyes, as Tosh had to be pressed up against Jack to make room for them all. Tosh didn't seem to notice, fiddling with a piece of equipment in the confined space, but Jack was staring at Owen with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Jack? What do we do if the thing that fell through the roof is human? We can't send them back." asked Tosh, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

Jack pursed his lips. "We'll deal with that when we get to it." He slung his arm over her shoulders, eyes twinkling. "Don't worry, Tosh, I can be _very _inventive when I want to be."

Owen growled something _very inventive _and unintelligible under his breath, while Tosh went back to frowning at the device in her hands.

The lift was halfway up. Owen thought he was going to explode if he didn't bring Jack down a peg.

"You mean you don't have a plan."

"Nope." Jack popped the "p". "But I do know what it's like to be trapped in a different time. Not great. But I will try and help whoever it is through it." His eyes took on a distant, unreachable look. Owen was trying hard not to scoff, but Tosh was gazing up at Jack with a sympathetic expression on her face. It made Owen want to light Jack on fire.

_Bloody women; always go for the sensitive type. _Owen knew this wasn't quite true, otherwise he would never get laid, but he was feeling pissed.

Owen was distracted from his thoughts by the lift passing the roof of the hub, and rising onto the Plass. Thankfully, it was deserted, so they didn't have to wait to get off.

Jack hopped down and extended a hand to Tosh. She stepped down gracefully, smiling at Jack. Owen stomped away, grumbling that the camera showed the back of the water tower, and could they _hurry up _because it was starting to rain. The drops of water were small at first, just barely tangible, but by the time the three of them reached the location the camera had shown, it was torrential, the rain making streams of water on the ground, bouncing off the pavement and plastering their hair to their heads. But when they rounded the corner, Owen wasn't thinking about the rain.

"What. The. Fuck."

…

There was an angel spread over the pavement.

His pure white wings stretched out over the cobbles, feathers catching the rain in stunning patterns. Rain soaked his dark hair, making it look like ink against his pale, alabaster skin. A white loincloth was hazardously wrapped around his waist, gold hemming glinting in the moonlight. The dying golden light from the rift opening was illuminating his body, reflecting off the water on the ground. His paper-thin eyelids were flickering slightly, and his face spasmed in pain, just as Jack noticed the sprawling pattern of purpling bruises on his ribs, marring his bare chest, which rose and fell minutely in time with the short, gasping breaths the creature took.

Jack thought he was quite beautiful.

"Right. Well." he said, clapping his hands together. He guessed he was the first to recover from the shock, and he was right, as Tosh was looking from the scanner in her hands to the body sprawled on the ground, her mouth working in confusion, and Owen was just standing there, slack mouthed, eyes wide in his face. Jack was pretty sure his lower jaw was making a bid for freedom, but decided to keep that piece of information to himself.

"Owen, I want him sedated and brought down to the hub on a stretcher, then bandaged before we put him in a cell. We don't want him getting violent. Or running off. That would take a bit of explaining." said Jack, thinking of the countless people he would have to retcon if the angel escaped.

Owen's doctor instincts finally set it, and his nodded, opening the suitcase of equipment he had remembered to bring, and drawing out a folded stretcher, unfolding it and putting it together so the body could be lifted. He didn't do this often, and was struggling to put the right parts in the right places, before Tosh took over, pushing him out of the way. He grunted, and picked up a syringe, filling it with a large dose of sedative. Moving towards the casualty, he was surprised when Jack put an arm out to stop him.

"Just, be careful, yeah?"

Owen, slightly insulted that Jack doubted his ability to look after himself, shrugged him off, and stomped over to the body, and jabbed him with the needle, pumping him full of sedative. His eyes flickered open in pain, and in one startling moment of coherence, which Owen was not prepared for, fixed onto his face, before glazing over and sliding shut.

"Owen? Stretcher's ready." called Tosh.

He motioned for her to wheel it over, and she complied, struggling to push the wheels over the cobbles. Jack moved to help them get the body onto the stretcher. They lifted him with some difficulty; nobody seemed to want to touch the wings, or his damaged ribs. Owen could bet that if the casualty was conscious, it would be screaming in pain, but it was so heavily sedated it probably couldn't feel anything. Hopefully.

The loin-cloth may have slipped a bit in the struggle to get him on, and Owen caught Jack peeking at the patch of skin it revealed. Disgusted, he frowned fiercely. He wasn't even conscious, for God's sake.

When the casualty was strapped in best they could with the feathery intrusions in the way, they began to wheel him to the lift. There was only room for one with the stretcher, and it was a tight enough squeeze as it was, so Tosh and Jack had to go in through the tourist office. Jack grumbled something about doctor's privilege, but Owen decided to block him out.

As the lift started to descend, coupled with a jolt, Owen checked his vitals, trying to see if he was in anyway similar to humans. He was humanoid in shape, but that could always be deceiving. The only things that _seemed_ to be wrong were a few bruised or fractured ribs, and a mild concussion.

The alarm blared for a few seconds, as Tosh and Jack dashed in, still sopping wet. Owen looked down at his dripping jacket and sighed.

The lift reached the floor, and Owen stepped off it, lifting the stretcher with Jack. They all stood around him, and stared down contemplatively.

Owen decided to break the silence. "The only thing I can do about the ribs is give him some painkillers. He may have concussion, so we shouldn't keep him sedated too long."

"Right." Jack muttered, still staring down at the body lying prone on the stretcher. Owen narrowed his eyes. If Jack got a little crush, that was it, they were all screwed. Promptly, Jack snapped out of it, shaking his head as if to clear the air. "Owen, do whatever to get him well again. Tosh, scan him, try and find out as much as we can. Then, we'll take him to the cells. Tosh, after that, can you do some research, try and see if this has happened before? You might have to dig around in the archives."

Tosh groaned loudly. The archives were a _mess_.

Owen grinned, and sauntered off to find the painkillers, while Tosh waved various pieces of techno-junk at the "angel". By the time Owen got back, carrying high-strength paracetamol, which he really hoped wasn't poisonous to this thing (it wouldn't be the first time), Tosh was done with her scans.

"It would seem he is very closely related to us, the main difference being the whole wing thing. Normal bone structure, brain activity, not giving off radioactive energy, it's not dangerous in any way. As far as I can see. The wings seem to be made up of a cartilage frame, with feathers similar to that of birds on top. They should be able to support his weight, if he chooses to use them."

"Woah, he can fly?!" interrupted Owen.

"Sure. That's usually what wings are for." Jack muttered, and Owen scowled at him.

"Could you take a blood sample for testing? I want to see if it's got certain properties." asked Tosh.

Owen nodded, still scowling, and went to grab a needle.

…..

Ianto woke up. Groggy at first, he only got snatches of images, impressions.

Cold. Hard floor. Dirt under his finger tips. Blurry brown walls, swimming in front of his eyes. Pain. Sharp, blooming pain on his side.

He groaned, hands flying to his sides, but that only made it worse, so he relieved the pressure, fluttering them nearby, frustrated at his lack of ability to do anything. Probably a fractured rib, he thought, doing a quick physical inventory. His head _hurt_. It felt like someone had grabbed it and smashed it against a wall a couple of times, which for all he knew, was what had happened. That was coupled with a dizzy feeling he could feel _lying down_, and a general feeling of light-headedness.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. He was arranged carefully on the floor of a small holding cell, which sported a small bench on one wall. Three walls were a dirty brown colour, splattered with odious stains in noxious colours, while the fourth was a glass panel with holes in for ventilation. Or interrogation. His heart rate started to increase. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was falling, but now he was in a place he didn't recognize, and he had been just over the Plains of Uriel, which was familiar territory. Clearly, he wasn't there anymore.

Ianto sat up, wincing. Staying still for a moment to recover from the wave of dizziness that engulfed him, he got a better look around. The cell was completely empty apart from him, but there was a snuffling sound coming from his right, and the odd snarl. He really hoped he wouldn't get eaten. He struggled to his feet, trying to see if his wings were working. Bad idea. He slumped against the wall, breathing deeply despite his ribs, trying to quell the nausea rolling in his stomach. Feeling a little better, he pushed off the wall. He tried to spread his wings, but the cell wasn't wide enough. He folded them, so they were tucked behind his back. They didn't seem to be injured, but he would have to give them a test run, just to make sure. If his stomach could handle it.

"Does it hurt?"

Ianto whirled around, startled, and then stumbled, his dizziness overcoming him slightly. The man on the other side of the glass reached out as if to help, but dropped his hands when Ianto righted himself. The man didn't say anything else, and Ianto couldn't even remember the question, so he just stared at him. Eventually, after Ianto had had enough of the man dragging his eyes across his body as if he were an interesting specimen, he spoke up.

"Who are you?" He was pleased to note that his voice didn't waver. Years of hiding his emotions had payed off.

"I'm Captain Jack Harkness, and you are?" He winked.

Ianto would have raised an eyebrow at the flirting if he wasn't quite so petrified.

"Jones. Ianto Jones."

"Well, Jones, Ianto Jones, where are you from?" Captain Harkness looked pensive, almost reluctant now.

"It's just Ianto. And why should I tell you? No offence, but all I know is your name. I wake up in a strange place with multiple injuries? It doesn't exactly inspire instant trust."

Harkness looked surprised, just for a split second, and then chuckled, low in his throat.

"Okay. Let me explain. I'm part of an organisation called Torchwood. We work to fight hostile aliens that come through the rift, which is a rip in space and time, so we get stuff, mostly junk, but sometimes, well, things like you, come through it and it's our job to deal with that."

Ianto had come through the rift. Okay. He could deal with that, it wasn't so impossible, right? He knew, vaguely, what the rift did, but hardly anything came through on his side. Things just got took, went missing in the blink of an eye. Like him. He rubbed his face, wondering what the people he had left behind would think.

"Are you okay? Usually they start shouting and screaming by now."

"I'm fine. And I know what a rift is, so you don't need to tell me all that. Skip to the part where you tell me why I am in a cell."

Harkness' eyebrows rose, just a fraction.

"We didn't know. That you'd be so reasonable, I mean. Sometimes they get hostile, or hysterical. It's easier to keep them confined until we know they are safe."

"So, have you decided?" Ianto asked, sounding short to his own ears. The emotions were starting to catch up with him, and he didn't want to break down, not here, in front of this man.

"Decided what?"

"If I'm safe." clarified Ianto.

"Oh." Harkness sounded contemplative, and Ianto decided to just stay silent. He physically had to bite back a smart remark, as he had a (strong) feeling that it really wouldn't help his situation.

He took the opportunity to take Harkness in properly, noticing the twinkle in his blue eyes, and the sandy brown hair. Not half as much as he noticed the broad shoulders and strong looking arms. Ianto was trained in combat, but injured and nauseous? Not a chance. Harkness was wearing a long, war time style coat, which Ianto found highly impractical, especially if, as he claimed, he fought aliens. Imagine the dry cleaning bills.

Harkness grinned. "Yeah, sure, come on out."

Ianto resisted the urge to roll his eyes, as a door behind him opened up onto a large, grimy corridor. He poked his head out, wary. He wasn't kidding when he said he had no reason to trust Harkness.

The man in question was just strolling round to meet him, his coat billowing dramatically. Ianto stepped out of the cell, but not without caution.

"This way. So, there are three members of the team apart from myself. Tosh'll get you up to speed on the history of this planet, and its basic geography. Basically all you need to know." Harkness chattered beside him. Ianto was only half listening, distracted by the growling noises emitting from the cells.

"Owen is our resident doctor, so he will keep tabs on your ribs." He gestured to Ianto's bruises, his gaze lingering just a little bit too long. Ianto shifted uncomfortably. He suddenly became hyper aware of how little clothing her was wearing compared to Harkness. Whatever planet this was, it was either cold, or they were strict on clothing.

"And Gwen and I will help sort you a house out, a new identity, help you settle down."

Ianto stopped dead. "Why would I need a new identity? You can just send me back, right?"

Harkness looked grave. Ianto felt like he was going to throw up.

"I'm so sorry, Ianto. There's no way back."

Ianto was in a bubble, foam in his ears. He noticed the film of tears glistening in Harkness' eyes. Then the bubble popped, and Ianto's legs gave way.

Harkness caught him just in time, murmuring comforting nothings. He sat Ianto down on the floor, who just stared blankly ahead, seeing nothing.

Harkness sat beside him, grasping his limp hand in his own. Ianto had cold fingers.

"I'll never see them again." Ianto had to force the words past a constriction in his throat, his body rebelling against him, saying "no, don't say that". Ianto had never truly understood the concept of a "lump in the throat" till now. He didn't want this new understanding, just wanted to make it all go away. "None of them. They'll think I'm dead."

Harkness didn't have to ask who, he just squeezed Ianto's hand tighter, and said: "I know. It sucks, doesn't it?"

For some reason, that broke Ianto. The barrier of shock that had been holding his emotions back crumbled, and Ianto started to cry. No, more than crying, _howling_. His breath came out in great gulping sobs, and his eyes instantly filled with tears that welled over his eyelids, running down his cheeks in streams. He screamed, clenching his fists, curling into himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. He was dimly aware of Harkness gathering him to his shoulder, letting him cry into his coat, tears soaking into the material, staining it. Ianto breathed deep in Jack's scent, finding comfort in the strange, but pleasant smell.

Ianto felt lost. So empty. He wanted to rip his way out of this world, carve a hole in the fabric of reality. Scream so loud the walls around him would shatter, and he could fly, leaving only dust behind him.

He did none of these things. When he had cried himself out, he pulled away from Jack, took a few deep breaths, and wiped his face on the back of his hand.

"Jack? Thank you." Feeling intensely embarrassed at his hysterics, even if he did feel they were warranted, Ianto ducked his head, cheeks burning.

"It's alright." Jacks voice was soft, as if he were trying not to scare a cornered animal. Ianto hiccupped. "Let's get you upstairs, you can sleep in my bed tonight."

Jack guided Ianto up, and led the way through the corridor and into a small bunker. Ianto followed numbly, not really processing his surroundings. All he was aware of on the way was a silence that sounded forced, tense, stretched, a breath away from breaking, and eyes on him as he descended the ladder into the small, dark hole.

It was basic, only a small cot and a rail with some hangers on. Ianto felt shut in, the walls pushing him into himself.

"I'll get you some clothes, okay? Wait here."

Ianto wondered where else he would go. He sensed Jack hesitating, and then, finally, he sighed, and left. Jack seemed to think he was a skittish horse, liable to run off and kick someone in the head at any given moment. Ianto wondered if he was right.

"Here you go." Jack handed him some striped pyjama pants, and Ianto took them without protest. Jack carried on staring at him, looking concerned. Tired of being looked at like he was going to break apart, Ianto coughed pointedly.

"Something you don't want me to see?" Jack winked, grinning seductively, before facing the other way.

Despite himself, Ianto felt a smile bubble up from somewhere deep inside him. It felt like a shard of glass when he swallowed it back down.

Quickly, he slipped off his loincloth, and pulled on the trousers. They were a bit too long, material pooling at his feet. He tapped Jack on the shoulder, who turned around, grinning.

"Sorry, I couldn't find you a shirt. We'd have had to rip holes in it anyway." he said, glancing at Ianto's wings. He clapped his hands, rubbing them together.

"First night on Earth, hope it's comfortable. See you in the morning." Jack turned to go. Ianto caught his wrist just in time, holding it just a bit too tightly, but he was past the point of caring.

"This is Earth? My people have been here before. You must have some records. Maybe they can tell me how to get back!" Ianto felt hope burst in his chest, an almost painful flood of emotion, which he quickly tried to suppress. He couldn't stand to get his hopes up only to have them crushed.

Jack didn't seem to share his excitement. "Maybe. We will look in the morning. Go to sleep, Ianto." he smiled, sadly.

Sobered by Jacks apathy, Ianto sighed, and dragged his feet, which suddenly felt like great weights had been attached to them, over to the cot, and lay down on it, closing his eyes. He lay like that until Jack left.

…

Jack sat at his desk, weary, as if he carried the whole world on his shoulders. Sometimes he did.

Another life destroyed by the rift. How could a man with wings pass for normal in a time that didn't even fully accept _humans_ that were a little different? They would have to find a way to send him back, or shut him away from the world. It broke Jacks heart. Ianto struck him as pure, despite his grief today. His eyes had been so wide in his face, putting Jack in mind of two broad, deep lakes, full of secrets. Yet his wings had reminded Jack of a flower, blooming outward from the centre of his back, yet not fully open, cramped as they were by the cell.

Jack had to let him out, didn't he? Those wings spoke of freedom and life, and who was Jack to deny him a little more freedom, when he would have to put up with so much secrecy and seclusion?

Jack had offered him a bed, his bed, and the sight of Ianto curled up on his cot in nothing but pyjama pants, his wings folded behind him, had sent a rush of feeling through Jack. One part awe, one part lust, two parts melancholy. He didn't want to feel lust for Ianto. He was lost, scared, and had just received an emotional blow that probably wouldn't heal for years, and Jack wanted to screw him? It wasn't appropriate, not to mention _right._ His mood was so dire that he hadn't even found the effort to be cordial to his staff, snapping at Owen when he asked if he had "finished feeling up the crying angel".

Jack poured a glass of scotch and drank it.

…..

Ianto feigned sleep until Jack left, and then he opened his eyes with a snap, probing the darkness. He knew he wasn't going to get to sleep for a while. His ribs hurt almost as much as his heart. He was never going to see Eden again, or the Tower Of Babylon, which scraped at the surface of the sky, or Rhiannon and the kids, or _Lisa._

Ianto knew one thing, in all this mess. He had to get back.

**A review would mean the world. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Notes: I know I have said to some people that the story was set in series one (ish), but I have had to alter the timeline slightly to get rid of some plot holes, so sorry about that. It is now set after Jack comes back from TYTNW.**

**Also, just pretend the Doctor let Jack keep the invisibility perception filters on the keys after TYTNW. **

**The next few chapters of this story might take a bit longer to get up, as I have an Italian exam coming up, which I have to study for, so please have a little patience. : P**

**The reaction to the first chapter was really positive, and I got more reviews than I was expecting. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourite or followed! Please leave a review for this chapter too!**

**Word Count: 6329**

**Warnings: Some swearing, and a reference to suicide. Also, innuendos, mostly from Jack.**

**Disclaimer: Last time I checked, I didn't own Torchwood or any of the characters.**

Ianto felt like shit. He was too tired, dehydrated, and he had, quite possibly, the worst headache anyone had ever gotten in all of time. Having had next to no sleep last night, he needed caffeine.

He had tried lying in bed and waiting for Jack, but the tempting lure of a possible coffee was too much, so Ianto exhaled loudly, literally rolling out of bed, landing in a heap on the floor, tangled in the bed sheets. He groaned into the ground, his face smushed against it. Kicking the sheets off with no grace whatsoever, he stumbled over to the ladder, rubbing his eyes groggily. Arms protesting, he heaved himself up.

For the first time, he got a proper look at his surroundings. He was in a huge, cavernous space, the walls a dirty, stained grey, with multiple desks spread out over the floor. It was a mess. There were fast food wrappers everywhere, random bits of junk strewn across the floor, the bins were next to overflowing, and all the desks were piled high with hazardously arranged papers, computers, and bits of tech. It made Ianto twitch just looking at it.

He noticed one desk had significantly more computers than the others, about six different monitors all wired together. There was what appeared to be a medical examination room off to the side, an office on the other. Up some stairs was a glass panelled conference room, with a "T" made of hexagons imposed on the glass. A corridor leading, Ianto assumed, to the cells, was dank and dark.

The whole complex was big, but not big enough. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, he felt a sharp longing for Eden, his home planet. A vision of Lisa's face swam in his vision, before he blinked it away, along with a few tears.

The claustrophobia of the room added to Ianto's need to fly. He _ached _to spread his wings, and just take off, but Jack wouldn't be happy, he could tell, and he didn't want to piss him off the second day they knew each other.

Resigned, Ianto headed to a small kitchen area in the right, looking for some mugs. He found a couple that looked like they were growing mould, but eventually he found a clean, plain white one, which he rinsed just in case. He looked around, hoping to see a coffee machine, a bag of beans, anything. Hell, he'd even do instant if it meant he could get his fix. He finally spotted a machine. Rummaging around in the drawers below it, he found an unopened bag of coffee beans. Feeling like maybe today could go better than anticipated; he ripped open the packaging and put it in the machine. Making sure it was all stocked up, he hit the on switch, and closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. The smell alone was enough to perk him up, he thought, as the coffee hit the bottom of the cup with a sizzle.

There was a sudden, blaring alarm. Ianto nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling round in panic.

A small, unassuming woman walked in. She was glancing round the hub, but when her eyes settled on Ianto, they widened, and she gasped, ever so slightly. Her shock was only fleeting, and after a second her face relaxed into a timid smile. Slowly, she walked over to him, stepping over the litter strewn across the floor with practiced ease.

"Hello, I'm Tosh, you must be Ianto." She stuck out her hand. Ianto stared at it for a moment, and then remembered a piece of trivia he knew about Earth. They shook each other's hand to greet each other. It was very confusing, and Ianto had never seen it done, so he copied her stance, and she slipped her hand into his, shaking it up and down slightly. He sighed in relief. At least he hadn't accidentally insulted her.

Ianto knew a lot about Earth. He was part of the faction of angels which collected data on nearby planets. Ianto's speciality was Earth, so it was lucky how he ended up here. The technology and landscape was similar to that of Eden, yet the social ideology was startlingly different.

"Are you making coffee?" she asked, sounding surprised.

"Yeah. You want some?" Ianto replied, glad to turn away from her and focus on the coffee maker, fiddling with the dials. He felt awkward, here with this strange woman in a place he didn't really understand, no matter how hard he tried to.

"Oh, yes please." she breathed. "Gwen always makes crappy instant, when she bothers. You got the beans out. Jack bought them ages ago, trying to inject, I don't know, culture or something into our lives, but he forgot about them, and they've been sat there ever since."

Ianto had a feeling Tosh didn't usually talk this much, but she knew he was uncomfortable, and wanted to help make him feel less tense. He was grateful.

"Sugar? Milk?" he asked, finishing her coffee.

"No, thanks." She took the cup from him, smiling gratefully, before taking a small sip. Her eyes slid shut, and a small groan slipped past her lips.

"Oh my god, Ianto, that tastes so good. You should open a coffee shop!"

He grinned, and rubbed the back of his neck. Secretly pleased, he took a sip of his own coffee.

"Tosh? Is that you?"

A voice drifted from the bunker, sounding slightly suspicious.

"Yeah!" Tosh yelled back. Jack came bounding up to them, spotting Ianto.  
"I didn't know you were out of bed." He said, narrowing his eyes.

"Couldn't sleep. I made coffee, you want some?"

"No thanks." He regarded Ianto, for a moment, before shaking his head.

"Oh, go on, Jack. He's just made me some, it's fantastic." Tosh spoke up, looking between the two of them.

"Maybe later. Come on, Ianto, I'll get you some clothes, then we can discuss where you are going to live."

Ianto's chest constricted. He hated being reminded of how long he might have to stay here. He sighed, and followed Jack.

…

Tosh watched Ianto go, still sipping her coffee. It really was good, the bitter taste flooding her mouth and giving her a pleasant buzz. There was something going on, she mused. Jack wasn't acting like himself, and it made Tosh nervous.

She drained her cup, set it onto the pile of dishes that needed washing, the oldest of them put there years ago, and headed to her desk.

Shoving a pile of half completed paperwork out of the way, she powered up her computer. She scanned the whole hub for anything wrong. She felt awful doing it, but Ianto had been in the Hub on his own, and they couldn't be too careful. Satisfied that everything was in order, she set to work on an algorithm that would cause more delicate minds to combust.

About five minutes later, Owen came in, grumbling. Tosh waved a greeting at him, but he didn't seem to notice, so she slumped back in her seat. Hearing some footsteps, she turned her head, catching a glimpse of Jack grinning at her, before he moved aside so she could see Ianto, pulling at the hem of the t-shirt Jack had gave him. He was dressed in a pair of loose jeans, ripped at the knee, and a dark blue shirt, with holes clumsily cut out of the back for his wings. It was slightly too big for him, and his sleep tousled hair only contributed to the scruffy feel of the outfit.

She grinned at Jack conspiratorially, thinking that Ianto looked rather fetching, as he was, no doubt.

"Whose shirt is it?" she asked.

"I don't know. I might have had someone round here, and they forgot their clothes."

"You gave me a shirt belonging to your lover? I doubt they will be pleased." Ianto said, just as Tosh exclaimed: "You had someone at the Hub?"

Jack laughed, rather inappropriately, thought Tosh, considering the security risk he was blatantly ignoring.

"I'm sure they were in the know, Tosh, or I retconned them afterwards. And I don't have a lover, Ianto. Just lots of fun."

Ianto rolled his eyes, and opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by the alarm as the door was opened. Tosh turned, relieved that Ianto was distracted, as she had seen his look of confusion at their talk of retcon. There was a conversation she did not want to go into.

Gwen strolled in, chattering on the phone to Rhys. She only looked up when she was five feet away, The phone slipped from her fingers. Her eyes widened impossibly in her face, and she gasped.

"We probably should have warned her." murmured Tosh, but Jack just smiled and waved at her.

Gwen scooped up her phone and said a quick "Got to go, sweetheart." to Rhys, before marching over to them both, still gaping slightly.

"Um. Hi." she said, when she reached them, staring at Ianto. He looked worried.

"Hi Gwen. This is Ianto. He's an angel." Jack smirked. She transferred her stare to him.

Owen, seemingly magnetized to any form of drama, if he wasn't in the middle of it already, wandered over. "Oh, hi. You've met angel-boy then."

"What-When- How." Gwen spluttered, staring at them all as if expecting someone to jump out and tell her she had been pranked.

Taking pity on her, Tosh explained. "He fell through the rift yesterday. He stayed at the Hub last night, but we didn't call, because you were with Rhys." Tosh sniffed, with a touch of bitterness. She was getting lonely, lately.

"Yeah." said Owen. "What were you both doing?" He sneered, but his words seemed to have no effect.

"He's got wings…"Gwen breathed, probably not even aware Owen had spoken.

"Well, yeah. He is an angel." Jack stated, as if this was the most normal conversation anyone could be having. Torchwood had hardened them all.

"We refer to ourselves as the Winged, but angel is fine." said Ianto, with an air of long suffering disdain. "You earth people think up the weirdest names."

"Earth people? You can't say anything, Oh Winged One!" Owen spluttered, indignantly.

"Excuse me?" Ianto raised an eyebrow.

"You've got to admit, it does sound a bit pretentious, Ianto." Jack cut in.

"To whose standards? And who are you, anyway?" Ianto addressed his last question at Owen.

Owen puffed up his chest. "I'm Dr. Owen Harper. I patched your ribs up."

"Well, you didn't do a very good job, did you?"

Owen scowled, enraged, before Gwen waved her hands between them all. "Boys! Enough! Let's go upstairs, and discuss where Ianto is going to live, stuff like that."

"Just what I was going to suggest. Come on, guys." Jack bounded away in a flurry of coat tails. Gwen and Tosh shared a look, before following the two glaring men and Jack to the conference room.

…

When they were all seated in the room Ianto had seen earlier, a furious discussion began. It started when Gwen suggested a flat, and Owen sneered at her for thinking a man with wings would get rent, so Gwen snapped at him, and he snapped back, and it all went downhill from there.

"We could surgically remove them or something." Gwen suggested.

"Yeah, sure, I will singlehandedly remove two obviously major appendages from a creature I know nothing about, and just hope he doesn't bleed to death."

"It was only a thought."

"Well, I suggest you have less of _them_."

And then they were off again, while Tosh tried to mediate between the two. Ianto had tried butting in a few times, but eventually gave up, sitting back in his chair and just watching them all. Jack seemed to take much the same approach, staring pensively into the distance. His eyes kept flicking over to Ianto, and then he would frown and look away.

Jack sat forward. "There's always Flat Holm."

They all stared at him, before they erupted into protests and confused questions.

"Have you lost your bloody mind?"

"What's Flat Holm?"

"Not only would that severely impact on his mental health, it would affect the others, too!"

"Jack! You can't do that!"

"Half of them will top themselves, Jack!"

"Guys, I don't know what we are talking about."

They were all speaking at once, and Ianto couldn't tell who was saying what. He didn't know what Flat Holm was, and he didn't particularly care.

"Or, you know, I could just stay here. I am going to try to get back to Eden anyway." He cut in, during a gap in the raised voices.

They all turned to look at him.

"Can he do that?"

"Wouldn't that be a security risk?"

"How do we know he won't try and blow us up?"

Ianto sighed and let them get on with it. He knew what conclusion they would come to. He couldn't stay anywhere else, if the human race was as clueless as they said.

Finally, Jack seemed to take charge.

"He can live here. Temporarily. We all keep an eye on him. I'll see if we can get UNIT to give us a more permanent location. He can't stay here for long."

"Fine."

"Are you sure, Jack?"

Ianto decide he had had enough of being talked about like he wasn't there.

"I'm fine with living here. I'll be back in Eden soon, anyway."

They all looked at him, seemingly startled that he still existed. Jack looked pained.

"Alright Ianto. I'll give you two weeks. Then I try and get hold of UNIT." Jack eyes seemed to pierce into Ianto, cutting him open, his insides on view for all.

"I'll be gone by Friday." Ianto got up, and walked away, his heart pounding against his rib cage.

He could feel their eyes on his back.

….

It had been two months, and Ianto was still no closer to finding out what he had to do or how to do it. He felt like he had poured over every religious text in the world, trying to find something, anything that might help him.

Tosh had been running searches for keywords, like angel, or heaven. It was a special program than ran over the whole internet with a fine toothed comb, she assured him, and anything involving a keyword would be flagged up so they could have a look. When she wasn't working, she was trawling through hundreds of grossly inaccurate and equally unhelpful wiki pages, and bad pick up lines in emails ("Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" Ianto wanted to tell them that, yes, it had.) Her input had been really helpful, and they'd found some promising articles, but he had a feeling her resolve was dissolving, now that it had been so long since they found anything.

True to his word, Jack had called UNIT after two weeks, but at first they wouldn't speak to him, because of something he had done to piss them off, which he wouldn't elaborate on. Then, when he finally apologised and persuaded them to hear him out, they had a big emergency over at UNIT headquarters, and couldn't speak to him for a week. Which was unfortunate, because when they called Jack, he had an emergency, and when he got back to them, they told him they didn't have a place available for an indefinite amount of time. So, Jack appeared to give up, and let Ianto stay at the Hub until they had any bright ideas.

Ianto had figured if he was staying here, he might as well pull his weight, and had began cleaning up the Hub. It was significantly better than pre-Ianto, and he never felt like throwing up when he walked in anymore. His coffee was in high demand, and he found that during most of their breaks, he was being begged for "just one more, Ianto".

Jack wasn't taking part in the search, he was too busy, but that didn't stop him and Ianto from striking up a strong friendship. They lived in such close quarters to each other (Ianto was still on a camp bed they had set up), they couldn't help it, despite Jacks subtle attempts to distance himself from Ianto. They had shared many jokes, even ones the rest of the team knew nothing about, and there was a constant easy banter between them, bordering on the edge of flirty. They hadn't crossed that edge, though. Ianto would be gone, soon, and he was with Lisa, anyway, and she'd never forgive him if he acted on the occasional fantasy he had about Jack. And it was only that, a fantasy. Jack flirted with anything that moved, and Ianto was certainly not special, just because Jack seemed to enjoy his company more. Ianto had seen Jack put on a show, and he knew he could do it well. He didn't think Jack was purposely being manipulative, more that he hid his feelings so often, it was hard to tell what was real and what wasn't.

But Ianto couldn't get too invested in trying to figure Jack out. He still missed Lisa something awful, a constant gnawing ache in his stomach. There was a constant thrumming need for Eden, to spread his wings, to soar over the clouds. The claustrophobia of the Hub was choking him. He sometimes had bad days, mostly when the rest of the team was off doing things, and he was stuck on his own in the Hub. These were the days when he contemplated taking a leaf out of Jacks book, and heading to the roof. Falling was sort of like flying, right? But he squashed these thoughts as soon as they came up, feeling weak.

It drove him to work harder, push himself to read more, research more. He was going to get back to Eden if it killed him.

He was currently working on deciphering a cryptic passage from the Bible, which he felt like he had read a million times, and every time he got a different thing from it.

This time, however, a certain sentence caught his eye, one he had previously overlooked. "I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven."

Ianto stared. His mind felt like someone had slipped a firework into his skull. His ideas exploded.

He had fallen.

Satan had fallen.

Lightning. Rift energy.

Satan was one of the Winged.

His heart beat faster. He erupted into activity, wrenching the page out of the book, and hurtled down the stairs to get to Jack.

"Woah there, angel-boy, calm down." exclaimed Owen, after Ianto had barrelled into him, almost knocking over the tray of samples he was carrying.

"I have to get to Jack." Ianto panted, eyes wild, trying to crane his neck to see if he could see him.

"He's in his office." said Owen, looking rather bemused. Ianto's expression must have made him reconsider a snarky comment that was no doubt burning his tongue.

Ianto didn't bother with a thank you, just pushed past Owen, and burst into Jacks office. Jack was on the phone.

"Yes, _General_, but you don't seem to- Excuse me, I have to go." Jack slammed the phone down violently, but he smiled at Ianto.

"The last time someone came into my office like that, I was sore for a week. But I have a feeling that's not what you're after." he said, leering.

"I found something, Jack." Ianto replied, breathlessly. He shoved the piece of paper under his nose, waving it frantically. Jack took it, raising an eyebrow.

"What exactly is it that I'm looking at?"

"There," said Ianto, pointing. "It says that Satan _fell._"

Jack's brow furrowed. "Ianto, this was in biblical times."

"He could still be alive, if he was Blessed. That means he gets a longer life than the normal Winged." Ianto rambled; frustrated that Jack wasn't as excited as Ianto.

"What, like blessed by God?"

"Sorta." Said Ianto, not really wanting to go into the complicated workings of Eden's society compared to the humans rudimentary understanding of it all.

"I find it hard to believe _Satan _was blessed."

"What if he wasn't really evil? He fell from Eden, and the humans took it to mean he was evil, but he wasn't? I fell, and I didn't do anything wrong, what if it was just random, an accident, like I was?"

Jack sighed. "Ianto, this all relies on coincidence. We have no idea what he looks like, where he lives, even if he's still alive."

Ianto frowned, thinking. "We could run a search for likely names. You must have it on your database." Jack had told Ianto about their extensive collection of data on pretty much anyone.

"I highly doubt there will be many people named Satan."

"Exactly. It will be easier to find him."

"What if he's changed his name?"

"Jack, please, let's just check." pleaded Ianto, desperate in the face of Jacks stubbornness.

"Fine." Jack conceded, looking reluctant. "TOSH!" he yelled, walking out of his office, followed by Ianto.

"What?" A voice trickled through the air, muffled by the piles of paper surrounding Tosh' small frame.

"Can we run a search for the name Satan?"

"Uh. Yeah. Why?" Her head popped up, her face wrinkled in confusion.

"Ianto thinks he has found something."

She looked alarmed. "Right."

There was the sound of fingers on the keyboard, as Jack and Ianto moved over to her desk so they could see the screen.

"There are only a few people in the world called Satan, one is a forty year old from Brazil, and the rest are people who have changed their name from something more common, possibly as a joke."

"It's not any of them."

"How do you know?" asked Jack.

"Angel senses." Ianto had explained before that all of the Winged felt a pull to Eden when they were away, and that counted for other Winged too. He could tell who was Winged and who wasn't, just by reading their name on screen. "Try Lucifer."

"Again, only a couple, but one doesn't have a date of birth. Hm. That's strange. It says one will be available shortly. One minute." She tapped on her keyboard. An old police report came up. "It says a picture was requested in 1893, over telegram, but they got no reply, so am officer was dispatched. He never returned." She glanced up at the both of them, eyes wide. "It says here they would investigate further, but as far as I can see, nothing happened, and everyone just forgot about it."

"See what else you can find."

"Nothing much, except a census from 2000 that was sent back from this address, saying he emigrated from Jerusalem. Oh, and a receipt for a bottle of vodka."

"It's him." Ianto announced, but Jack shot a sceptical look his way. "Weird reports from the 1800s? Jerusalem? It's a Winged, and I'm going to find him."

"Tosh and I will drive to him, and bring him in for questioning." Jack began.

"No."

"What?" asked Jack, eyebrows flying up. He looked irritated.

"He's a Winged, and a Blessed one too. They can be dangerous. I won't put you at risk. Anyway, he won't tell me anything if he thinks he's being threatened. There's probably a reason why we can find so little on him. This is something I have to do alone."

"Don't be ridiculous."Jack sneered.

"What, for wanting to talk to one of my own people without Torchwoods interference?" snapped Ianto, his hackles rising.

"Interference? Without us you would be being dissected by UNIT right now! That's why you aren't in a warehouse right now, not because they didn't have any free, but because I wanted to protect you!" Jack exploded, enraged, fists clenched in anger.

Ianto was aghast. "You did that? For me? Why didn't you tell me?" He stared at Jack, heart thrumming, not sure what to think, what to feel.

Tosh's eyes were flicking between the two of them like she was watching a tennis match. She caught her lip between her teeth.

"It didn't matter. Doesn't matter." Jack seemed to deflate, all the anger leaving him in a rush of air. "We'll get you to your angel friend."

"Jack…"

"Don't worry about it. Let's just forget about it, yeah?" Jack looked tired, as if the whole of creation was pushing in on him. Ianto wanted to wrap his arms around him, whisper the few words of Welsh he had picked up in his ears, caress his cheek. Instead, he nodded, stricken, and turned to Tosh.

"Is there a way I can get there without being seen? I could fly, but only if there is sufficient cloud cover."

The address was in London, near Canary Wharf. Ianto couldn't drive yet, and it would attract too much attention. Angel driving a car? Not really your usual rush hour sights.

"Cloud cover isn't a guarantee, not unless you want to wait until next week." said Tosh, pulling up the weather reports. Ianto shook his head. "You might have to. We can't retcon the whole country."

Jack was silent. Ianto could feel his presence though, like a tingle on his skin. Jack shifted, and Ianto felt his body lean towards him.

"Wait. I might have an idea. While I was away," Tosh looked up sharply, and Jack grimaced. Ianto wondered at the exchange, but kept his mouth shut. None of his business, and he didn't want to antagonize Jack further. "I got a portable perception filter, like the one outside the Hub. No one would see him unless they wanted to."

"Jack, are you sure?" asked Tosh, frowning.

"Yes. Come on, Ianto." He stormed away, footsteps echoing on the ground, not waiting for a reply. Ianto followed him, glancing back at Tosh, who regarded them both worriedly.

…..

Ianto was stood on the Plass. The whole team was there, Jack in the middle, stood forward, watching Ianto flex the muscles in his back.

"There are some strong winds over Oxford, so I would avoid that area. Try not to fly over too many densely populated areas, and keep high up, just in case. The perception filter doesn't work on people who aren't native to the time they are in, so it shouldn't work on this guy." Tosh was briefing him; she had tested the perception filter on the key round Ianto's neck on a small group of people, retcon easily at hand. It had seemed to work, but Jack knew if people wanted to see Ianto desperately enough, they would.

It pained Jack slightly, to see the key around Ianto's neck. That and memories was all he had left of the Doctor.

Ianto was nodding along innocently, and Jack could only guess at the hidden power behind his carefully crafted mask. Jack regretted snapping at him earlier, he didn't deserve it, but Jack knew how much of a risk Ianto was taking. Jack should know what people did to freaks. Jack was one himself, and so was Ianto, as much as they both shied away from the idea. It wasn't safe for him out there. But Jack didn't own Ianto, and without using force, he couldn't really stop him.

"I suppose that's all." said Tosh, shooting a look at Jack. She had been slightly wary around them both after their previous argument, and it was getting on Jacks nerves slightly. He would talk to her about it.

Ianto nodded solemnly.

"I'll be back soon. Hopefully I'll have some answers."

Ianto spread his wings.

They all gasped.

They really were quite beautiful. Full, stretching out as if to encompass the world, feathery and a pure, untainted white. Simultaneously strong and fragile looking, as if they could hold a thousand men on their tips, but would shatter at the slightest touch. The wind ruffled the feathers, and the tips seemed to become part of the clouds behind them, connecting Ianto to the great expanse of the sky. Ianto smiled at their awe, and for the first time, he really looked like an angel, straight out of a Michelangelo painting. He became ethereal, mystical before their eyes, a crackling power charging the air around him.

Jack let his jaw drop.

Ianto winked, and the air fizzled. He took off.

There was a great gust of wind as his wings flexed, and they carried him up, up above them all, until he was a distant speck on the horizon. They all craned their necks to see, and his whoops of joy dropped through the air towards them.

Jack was the first to start laughing. Tosh joined in soon after, a small giggle that seemed to bubble up from somewhere deep inside, and soon they were all shouting in ecstasy, pumping the air with their fists and hugging. They didn't stop until long after Ianto had cleared the horizon.

…

"Do you love him?"

"What?" Jack spat out his, regrettably, instant coffee.

"I asked if you love him."

He was in his office, sat with Gwen, who _had _been nattering on about Rhys and their imminent marriage. Jack hadn't really been listening and it seemed she had changed the topic of conversation.

"Who?" he hedged.

"Oh come on, Jack. It's obvious. You watch him when you think he's not looking, and then as soon as he leaves you get all distracted and sad. Do you love him?"

Ianto. Of course that's who she was talking about.

He thought, for so long that Gwen was going to repeat the question when he eventually started talking.

"No. I like him. A lot. But I don't love him. Not yet. I think I could, if I wanted to, if he let me in, but it's obvious he is smitten with this Lisa person."

"But you like him, right?"

"Well, I'll tell you one thing, I've never screwed a celestial being before!"

Gwen smiled slightly, and rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious, Jack."

"Yeah, I like him." Jack grinned, slightly embarrassed, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush. "And I'm worried about him."

"You shouldn't be, he'll be fine."

"He's visiting the _devil, _Gwen."

"Fair point. Maybe you should worry." She smiled and took a sip of her coffee. Then, she spat it out, grimacing.

"Yeah, we need him to come back safe. Get worrying." she said, looking like she was trying hard not to giggle. He smirked. They both dissolved into laughter.

However, at the back of Jack's mind was a small piece of fear, spreading its tendrils through his mind. When Ianto had looked at him earlier, with hope in his eyes and words of Lucifer on his tongue, Jack had found that he didn't want Ianto to leave. And that scared him more than anything.

….

Ianto wiped his palms on his pants. He was feeling jittery, a coil of nerves in the pit of his stomach. He was stood outside Lucifer's flat. The curtains were drawn, and the door was old and chipped. It was a rough area, and Ianto was trying hard not to gag on the smell of piss and rotting garbage.

He breathed through his mouth. His hand closed into a fist, hovering over the door. He dredged up all the courage he had, thinking of Eden and the home he missed so desperately. Then he knocked on the door. Nothing happened.

Ianto's wings fluttered nervously. The flight out had been great, all rolling hills and freedom. He finally got to see a bit of the planet he had landed on. The air had cleared his lungs and his head, and he wasn't so sure this was a good idea anymore. He knocked again. Still, nothing happened. On the third knock, the curtains fluttered.

"Hello?" Ianto called, hope waning.

"Go away." A gruff voice called out from the other side of the door.

"Sir," began Ianto. "I need your help." He leaned close to the door. "I am a Winged."

The door was wrenched open, and Ianto almost toppled through. Righting himself, he stared at the Winged on the other side of the door.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"You better had, boy."

Ianto followed the man through a dingy, grey walled corridor, dimly lit by a dying ceiling light. All he could make out of the man in front of him was a broad back, an unshaven beard and a pair of wings.

They passed into a dark, dank living area, with a ripped couch, stuffing oozing from the openings, a small coffee table, a stained armchair, and a small, old television. The inside of the flat didn't smell much better than the outside. An acidic, rancid scent pinched at Ianto's nose, forcing him to wrinkle it slightly.

The whole flat reminded Ianto of the Hub when he first arrived, full of fast food wrappers and bits of rubbish. There were apple cores scattered over the ground, and empty bottles of alcohol were piled in the corner.

Lucifer plopped down on the couch heavily. He gestured for Ianto to sit on the couch, and he complied, perching gingerly in the very edge.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Ianto Jones, sir."

He grunted. "Don't recognise the name."

Ianto was silent, not knowing quite how to respond. He took the opportunity to study the man on the couch opposite him.

Ianto could just make out a snake tattoo on his left bicep, flexing as he leaned forward. There was stubble on his jaw, and he was wearing a grey tank top and a pair of tattered jeans. He was a rather ominous presence in the sparsely decorated room, studying Ianto as Ianto studied him.

When Ianto could bear the silence no more, he began to speak.

"I came because I know you fell from Eden, through the rift, and I was wondering if you knew how to get back…."

The words died in his throat, as he registered the look of digust marring the other mans features.

"If I knew how to get back, do you think I'd still be here, boy?"

Ianto felt like his heart had migrated to his throat.

"I- Well, no, but I thought…. I don't know what I thought." Ianto choked out, burying his head in his hands.

Lucifer seemed to take pity on him.

"Look, boy, the only thing I know is that the Winged have a way to get here, but here doesn't have a way to get back. It was called the Machine, what the winged had. Heard of it?"

Ianto had heard of it. He nodded.

"Unless you've got another one in your back pocket, mate, you're screwed."

Ianto thought he was going to throw up. All this effort, and all he had for it was a "you're screwed"?

"Wait, does it manipulate rift activity?" asked Ianto, hope bubbling up in his chest.

"How should I know? Do I look like a bloody engineer to you?" he said, hoarsely.

"Yes, but have you seen it?" asked Ianto urgently.

Lucifer looked bemused. "Yes."

"What does it look like?" pressed Ianto, leaning forward, almost falling off his chair.

Lucifer sighed. "Come on, boy, I'll show you."

He heaved himself up, grunting. Ianto followed, confused. They went through a shadowed doorway, to a blacked out kitchen. Lucifer flicked on a light. Ianto blinked. The harsh bright light burned his eyes, in sharp contrast to the dim living room. The room was small, taken up by a grey, stained table, and a mini fridge. Lucifer hunted around on the table, and came up with a cardboard coaster and a small, blunt pencil.

The harsh white light highlighted the bruise-like shadows under Lucifer's blood shot eyes, and cast strange shadows on his face, making him appear twisted and disfigured.

He began scrawling on the back of the coaster, muttering and hiccupping. When he had finished, he sniffed, and pushed it towards Ianto.

"There. That's all I know."

Ianto didn't know what to think. Before he looked at the picture, though, there was one thing he had to know. "How did you cope for so long?"

Lucifer looked up at him, pity in his eyes. "I didn't."

Ianto didn't know who the pity was directed at anymore.

"I'll see myself out."

Lucifer grunted, and as Ianto glanced back on his way out of the kitchen, he saw Lucifer's pale, watery, sunken eyes drift to the half empty bottle of vodka on the table. As Ianto stood in the doorway, he heard the sounds of a cap being unscrewed, and the soft gurgle of liquid being poured.

He let the door drift shut behind him, turning the coaster over in his hands. He stared. He was holding a drawing of the Rift Manipulator back at the Hub in his hands.

**If any of you are interested, the bible reference for the sentence about Satan is Luke 10:18. Please leave a review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's notes: I am sorry this chapter took so long to update, I had so much studying to do, I had about an hour free time a week, and for most of that I just wanted to sleep. The exam is over and done with though, so the next few chapters should come up quicker.**

**Word Count: 3554**

**Warnings: Um, a swear, and violent images, I guess.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or any of the characters. **

**Please review!**

There was someone waiting for Ianto when he landed.

Jack watched Ianto plunge towards the ground, before pulling up sharply, fluttering his wings before he dropped in a shallow crouch. Straightening up, he regarded Jack silently, tilting his head a miniscule amount. Jack didn't say anything, and neither did he. As if on some unspoken agreement, they both walked towards the lift. They stood side by side, watching the world disappear above their heads.

"I found out what I need to do, Jack."

"Yeah?"

Jack didn't look at him.

"It's the rift manipulator, Jack! We just have to send me back using that. They've got one on Eden too. I can't believe we didn't think of this before!" Ianto was gaining momentum, explaining how Lucifer had given him the drawing, how he knew what they had to do, he had been thinking about it all the way over here. When Ianto first saw Jack he had been reluctant to talk to him, for some reason he couldn't explain. Jack just looked so cold, and distant, like whole worlds were locked away inside him. But now, when Jacks ice blue eyes weren't freezing his stomach into knots, Ianto could speak again. The words flowed out of him, almost too fast for him to catch up with, the letters tripping over each other in their haste.

"No." Jacks voice was frozen, unyielding.

It took a minute. The single syllable didn't properly register as Ianto continued to ramble on about time continuums and temporal shifts. When it did, it slammed into him, smashing his words into tiny, jagged pieces of hope, settling in his stomach.

"What? Jack, you don't understand, I need to get back…"

"The rift manipulator is dangerous. Last time we used it, it didn't exactly end well." Jack still wasn't looking at him. Fear bubbled in Ianto's throat.

"Jack, please, we can be extra careful. I need to see Lisa again!" Ianto was pleading, but Jacks face was set like stone.

The lift had hit the ground, and as far as Ianto could see, the Hub was empty. He must have got back later than he thought.

In a last attempt, Ianto poured all the pent up longing for his home into his voice, and formed a single word with his lips. "Please."

Jack turned to face him. His stone mask shattered.

Jack took a step towards him, so Ianto had to tilt his head up to look Jack in the eye. Ianto desperately wanted to take a step back, run from the anger, the emotion, in Jacks eyes, but he held his ground.

"No. Touch the rift manipulator and I'll ship you off to UNIT so fast you'll get whiplash." Jacks voice was brittle, cracked around the edges.

Dread crawled over Ianto's skin, and forced its way into his heart. He couldn't believe it. Jack wouldn't do that. He wouldn't. Would he? His mouth went dry, and tears sprung into his eyes.

"Fine." said Ianto, pleased with the way his voice stayed calm and cool. He wrestled his emotions back under control; he could look at them when he was ready to deal with them. He bottled them up and shut them away. He stopped his face muscles from twitching. He could hardly breathe, but he looked Jack in the eye and tried not to tremble.

Even as his world came crashing down around him.

…..

Jack stared Ianto down. His heart was crumbling in his chest. Jack nodded.

He left Ianto stood on the lift, shoulders drooping like teardrops.

Jack reached his office, and slumped onto his chair. He opened a small cupboard under his desk, pulling out some scotch and a glass. Pouring out a generous amount, he drank it.

Ianto had looked so broken, out there on the lift. Jack hated himself for making Ianto feel like that, hated that he couldn't give Ianto what he wanted, hated that what Ianto wanted was so different from what he wanted, hating himself for not being enough for Ianto to be happy here. Most of all, he hated Ianto for taking his life, the one where he knew how everything worked, what his place was, and complicating it, screwing it up into a ball and taking all Jacks certainties with it. Life wasn't just eat, drink, flirt, screw anymore. However, now Jack thought about it, it never was. He had been living a half truth for a long time.

Sighing, Jack decided to drink until he couldn't see.

…..

There was an ocean inside Ianto's stomach. It was rolling, broiling inside him, trying to exit through his pores as sweat. He felt ill. Taking two deep breaths, he checked the coast was clear, and then he walked into the Archives.

It was five in the morning, and Jack was sleeping, a rare sight. Ianto had wanted to sit there and admire the way his face looked, so peaceful and still. It was a side to Jack Ianto had never seen before, not with the daily apocalypses going on at Torchwood. But Ianto had made his decision, and he was going home. And, plus, he didn't really like the way his thoughts were veering to the creepy-stalker side of things.

He had slipped out of the bunker, still in his pyjamas, and crept into the Archives. He was constantly wondering whether he had made the right decision. But he knew he couldn't carry on the way he was. It was like he was stuck in limbo, halfway between two lives, and this was the time to choose. There was Eden, familiar, but currently unattainable, or there was a life here on Earth, unknown, perilous, and from what he'd seen of Lucifer, very lonely. Ianto had chosen Eden. There was nothing for him here.

Heart sinking, Ianto looked around. The Archives looked like they had been hit by a bomb. There were random bits of technology dropped where ever there was room, _nothing_ was labelled, and the whole place smelled of dust and decay. He was surprised nothing hazardous had exploded, or leaked. No-one would think to check whether anything was potentially dangerous. He wasn't going to find anything here. Not unless he spent hours looking. And he didn't have hours.

He backed away from the mess as if it would bite him, and turned away, scurrying back to his camp bed to think. Jack stirred as he walked in, and Ianto cursed under his breath, freezing. But Jack just murmured something in his sleep and turned over, brow furrowed. It sounded like Jack was saying "Grey…" to Ianto, but why Jack would be dreaming about colours, he had no idea. So he shrugged and slid under the covers, faking sleep in case Jack woke up.

His mind was racing, running through and discarding possibilities so fast Ianto almost couldn't keep up. He could feel a headache coming on.

He didn't fall asleep, growing more panicked as he failed to come up with a plausible way of convincing Jack to let him in the Archives. He heard Jack wake up a couple of hours later, groaning quietly. Ianto concentrated on controlling his breathing. He needed to find out how the rift manipulator worked. Lying there in the cold, dark room, feeling like the worst kind of traitor, Ianto formulated a plan.

…

It had been nearly a week. Jack was not entirely sure Ianto had dropped the rift manipulator idea entirely; he kept catching his eyes straying to it. But when Ianto had requested if he could sort out the archives two days after the suggestion, Jack had grudgingly obliged. He couldn't really blame Ianto for wanting to do something different than his exhaustive search for information. He was obviously going a little stir crazy.

Ianto had said that he needed distractions, and Jack knew that feeling all too well. It felt like his whole life was a distraction, sometimes.

However, Ianto's search never became less frenzied; he worked later into the night, barely took breaks, even to eat and got paler and thinner as time went on. There were times when Jack suspected he never got any sleep at all. There was now a desperate, hunted look in Ianto's eyes when he thought no one was looking. Jack only caught glimpses of it now and then, and he wasn't sure if it made him trust Ianto more or less. The man's motives were impossible to guess.

Partly because of this reason, Jack didn't entirely trust Ianto in the Archives. He couldn't be allowed to dig anything up on the manipulator, so Jack employed Tosh to keep a watchful eye on him, either through the CCTV or in person. However, he had noticed Tosh becoming more and more lax as time wore on. Tosh trusted too easy and too much. He would have to speak to her.

Jack was caught between wanting to trust Ianto with his life, and shutting him out completely. Instead, he did a little of both, and it wasn't healthy for either of them.

Jack couldn't believe he had let Ianto stay here so long. He had just barged his way into Jacks life, and now Jack couldn't imagine him not being there, a constant presence in the Hub. Yet it was clear the extended time away from his home was taking its toll on Ianto. He had told Jack about the weird angel-link-thing, but Jack had never imagined this. Ianto's wings were changing colour.

Jack had first noticed it a couple of days ago, when just the very tips of Ianto's wings had turned a soft grey. The next day, they were black, and the light grey was working its way slowly up Ianto's silky feathers. It looked like his wings had been dipped in oil. He occasionally caught Ianto glancing worriedly at them, chewing his lip, before refocusing on his work. It made Jack suspicious. He needed to ask why they did that, and what it meant.

He never got past that thought, as a voice rang through the Hub.

"We got rift activity! Lots of it!"

Abandoning his half empty glass of scotch- he was drinking a lot these days- Jack hurried towards Tosh' monitor. A location in Splott was highlighted, and Jack could see a huge rift spike on their equipment. He swore under his breath.

"Owen, Gwen, we gotta go!"

Jack scooped up his coat and slipped it on, already racing for the door, the rest of his team joining him. Ianto didn't come out and see them off, which was unusual, but Jack didn't have time to ponder on this observation, as he raced across the Plass, his team following him like ducklings following their mother. Laughing slightly at the comparison, he slipped into the SUV.

If Jack had bothered to check, if any thought of Ianto had crossed his adrenalin hazed mind, if Jack had managed to ignore the thrill pumping through his veins, the warm bubbly feeling of being needed, he might have found Ianto, face _white_, clutching at a piece of paper that might just break him.

…

Ianto thought his hands were shaking. He couldn't be sure though, he was so disconnected from his body. Vaguely aware, he stumbled to his feet. There was a rushing noise in his ears, and he wondered if he was dying, before he realised it was his blood pumping around his skull. His heart clenched painfully in anticipation. The rift spike could not have come at a better time. The Hub was deserted; no reason to wait, no precautions to take, and then he could leave. Press that wonderfully simple button the paper described and soar into Eden, foreign smells on his wings, and tales of strange places on his tongue. The speed of it was making Ianto dizzy. He couldn't believe it. It was _fate. _

He would do it now. Why not? Ianto was giddy, fire burning in his eyes, a hot flush on his cheeks. Why not indeed. He was free. He would see Lisa again. Rhiannon. The kids.

His only regret was Jack. And perhaps Tosh. The love he had for them was strong, nurtured over the short time he had had with them, but it wasn't what he wanted, what he needed. He needed Lisa. He would miss them, but that would only be a small blot on the shining, aching love he had for Lisa. It was safe, warm, dependable, and he needed that like he needed air.

….

"Tosh?" Jack frowned, the car slamming to a halt as he hit the brakes. He always took way too much advantage of the whole above-the-government thing, Tosh thought, and always went about twenty miles over the speed limit.

"Yeah?" she said, distractedly.

"I need you to go back to the Hub. Pick up the spare comms. Mine is failing."

She put out her hand, waving it slightly, and he dropped his earpiece into it. After inspecting it for a brief minute, she hummed in agreement.

"What have you been _doing_, Jack?"

He looked rather sheepish, rubbing his neck, and suddenly, Tosh didn't want to know. She sighed, exasperated.

"We better go back then. Hurry though; I don't want this situation in Splott to get worse while we are away."

"Yeah, there was loads of paperwork that time the policeman got eaten." Owen butted in.

"You didn't do any of it!" cried Gwen.

"Yeah, but watching you lot struggle along was very entertaining- Oof!"

Gwen had hit him, shouting good natured, if slightly irritated, insults at him. Owen grimaced, his pinched face twisting in mock annoyance.

Jack grinned, even as he swung the car around to speed the short distance back to the Hub.

….

The manipulator was there, right in front of him. Ianto's breathing hitched, and he ran towards it, the frantic beating of his heart pushing him to go faster. There were tears in his eyes. Hope, threatening and dangerous, roared inside him.

….

"Hurry, Tosh!" shouted Jack, leaning out of the SUV window. "And say hi to Ianto for me, he might be wondering where we've gone!"

Tosh waved at him to show she had heard, hurrying towards the entrance to the Hub. The SUV was parked on the Plass, and she jogged through the tourist office, hoping Ianto would be in there to let her through. He had taken to holing himself up in there to read the outdated booklets lately; whenever Jack insisted he needed a break. He seemed interested in Earth culture, and she had tried to teach him, but there was only so much you could tell without needing to show him the outside world once in a while. She had shown him popular movies, gave him classics to read. He grinned at her every time she showed up with a new thing to do. Tosh knew he wanted distractions, and she worked hard to get them.

He wasn't in the tourist office now. Sighing, Tosh rounded the desk and hit the hidden button, bouncing impatiently on the balls of her feet as she waited for the door to slide open. Squeezing through the half open gap, she hurried down the corridor.

It was strange. The Hub was quiet. She had been in the Hub when it was empty, but that was a different sort of silence, one without Owens music or Jacks jibes. That sort of silence was just the absence of sound. This one, however, was deafening, like the very air around her was straining, waiting anxiously on the brink of something colossal. She walked a little faster.

….

His fingers were inches from the button. He couldn't believe it was so simple. He should have guessed this. He might have been able to get back sooner. Screw the team, he needed Lisa, as selfish and as crazed as that was. It wasn't just Lisa though, it was all of it. The life he had left behind, the job, the future he had planned out, the sports team he had supported, for fucks sake, it was all gone. But he was going to get them back.

He pressed the button.

…..

The Hub started rumbling, a small shaking in the walls. Dust rose. Tosh broke into a run, sweat beading on her forehead. She had known something was wrong as soon as she walked in, but she had never expected a small _earthquake_. What was going on?

Her shoes tapped out a panicked rhythm on the ground as she hurtled through the Hub, gasping for breath.

…..

There was a bright white light next to Ianto. He had heard Jack saying that people thought you had to walk into the light to get to heaven, so it was with a twisted sort of smile that he walked towards the rip in space and time. Tears of relief welled in his eyes. He smiled, one happy, slightly crazed grin, painted across his face like a smear of blood on a wall.

"Ianto!"

Snap. Back to reality.

Snap, his heart rate sped up, snap, he whirled around, hoping to see her, warn her, get her out of here.

_Last time we used it, it didn't exactly end well._

Snap. The tenuous hold the manipulator had on the rift broke. The whole world shattered around Ianto, falling into jagged shards of glass, alight with fire.

…..

Tosh raced towards Ianto. He was surrounded by fire, the whole Hub crumbling around them. They were both shouting. His face was blurred, by heat and something else. Tosh touched her cheek, and the tears she found there dripped off her fingers to be lost in the flames around her.

The fire was spreading.

_Jack will be here soon he must be he must have heard the explosion they will come I promise oh god please_

Ianto was roaring her name, trapped in a circle of red hot debris. Tosh knew that if they didn't get out quick, he was going to die.

_No._

Glancing around, frantically trying to find a way to Ianto, Tosh skirted around a smoking desk- Owen will be pissed; it was his- feeling the heat of it on her skin.

A voice startled her, trapped her in place. She froze, looked up, fearing the worst. Ianto was gesturing, panicked, at the roof above her.

"Tosh, MOVE!"

Confused, she glanced up at the ceiling. The brick was cracking above her. She felt like there was a hand on her heart, squeezing it, making her choke. She threw herself out of the way, narrowly avoiding the fire all around her, falling heavily on her front, her arms above her head to shield herself.

The rock started raining down on her, a huge chunk fell by her feet. There were tiny chunks of rock bouncing off her arms, her back, her face, leaving stinging, bright pain, and then there was a bigger piece on her leg and she heard a sickening crunch and someone was screaming, she didn't know who, and then she could feel it, maybe sixth sense, maybe something else, but she knew it was going to hit her and then the moment of impact right on the back of her skull and then-

Nothing.

….

Tosh was completely obscured by debris and fire. There had been screaming, Tosh had been screaming, but now Ianto couldn't hear her voice, at least not over the sound of his own, choking out her name. The ceiling had caved in, just a small part of it, but it was enough. Tosh was unconscious, Ianto was trapped. The flames were quickly working their way up into an inferno, licking the walls, trying to climb them. They looked like they could have swallowed the whole world, if Ianto let them.

Right now, Ianto wouldn't have cared if this whole planet started burning, he just wanted Tosh safe.

He wanted to use his wings, soar above the devastation and rescue Tosh from it all. His wings were fluttering in alarm. He couldn't stretch them to take off without getting burned, though. The flames were closing in,

Vision going fuzzy around the edges, Ianto desperately tried to hang on. The smoke was worming its way down his throat, squeezing through his pores, coating his skin with the smell of burning, sharp and bitter. Soot stained his wings and Ianto couldn't feel, couldn't think anymore.

His knees buckled underneath him, and Ianto collapsed on the ground. All he could see was red. Bright, hot jewels of fire, sparkling and flickering in the darkness. Dredging up his last reserves of strength, Ianto pushed words past the ache in his throat.

"Help!"

A distant, answering cry could be heard.

"Ianto! He's alive!" A relieved sob cracked Ianto's lips open.

"Tosh! Help her!" Ianto coughed, tremors wracking through his body. _Help Tosh!_ He wanted to shout, to scream, but the smoke had closed his throat, and the weight of life was pulling his eyelids down.

"Ianto! Hold on!" There was a yell, from Gwen, closer now, but it fell on death ears, as Ianto was unconscious, his wings spread on the heat cracked floor beneath him. Ianto Jones had fallen.

**Please review; I need them like I need air.**


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